


A Night in the Caribbean

by SqueezeBabe



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: All the feels apparently, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon Divergence, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Referenced Panic Attack, soft and sweet, they cuddle after
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 23:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17876681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SqueezeBabe/pseuds/SqueezeBabe
Summary: Ash finally has a moment to live for himself.





	A Night in the Caribbean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blanchette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchette/gifts).



> For Blanchette. As per the requirements, I give you Blanca/Ash (and make him want it).
> 
> Make sure you draw gud!

The sound of the ocean was calming, but then again, it always was. The tropical sun warmed his skin as the soft sigh of wind through the palm trees cooled it, and the rhythmic breaking of gentle waves combined together to induce feelings of tranquility.

Ash could finally relax, peacefulness slowly seeping into his soul. It was strange to not have to look over his shoulder all the time and sleep with one eye open, or have his mind constantly on alert; his nerves fraying and on edge. 

There was no need for hyper-vigilance and he didn’t have to protect Eiji anymore; Eiji was safe, back in Japan…

The crunch of footsteps across the sand would have normally startled him, triggering a call to action, whether it was to run away or stay and fight, except there could only be one other person out here with him, and the fact that he was making noise as he walked just confirmed that.

The ice cold glass against his cheek made him flinch, “Here, you’re old enough to drink this,” Blanca grinned at his questioning look, “the legal drinking age here is eighteen, not that it’s probably stopped you before…” 

Ash snorted as he took the beer from Blanca, taking a healthy swallow as he stared out at the brilliant blue of the ocean. “I can’t believe you waited a month before giving me alcohol.”

Blanca eased himself into the chair beside him, moving gracefully despite his large size, “I didn’t think you felt like drinking… but the sun is shining, the air is hot; it’s perfect weather for beer.”

Ash took another swallow, and gave Blanca a sideways glance. “Or maybe the barmaid keeps turning you down and you’re now attempting to drown your rejection in alcohol and you don’t want to do it alone.”

 

\----

 

The tropical night air was warm, almost balmy. The leaves of the palms rustling gently in the next to non-existent breeze and in the background the faint crash of waves against the beach. It was quiet and still. Almost perfect for a nighttime ambush… except there wouldn't be one. His frequent walks along the beach and through the villa were to ensure that nobody would be sneaking up on them.

Blanca wasn't stupid, he knew it would only be a matter of time before someone came for them, either to employ him, or to seek revenge… but not tonight. 

In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he could see Ash leaning against the wooden railing of the veranda, staring out into the night, a wisp of blonde hair glinting in the moonlight as it trailed across his face. 

A face that was showing an uncharacteristic amount of emotion, those green eyes filled with sadness and longing.

The hitman’s fingers twitched, wanting to brush away the straying strands as Blanca realised, not for the first time, that Ash shared an uncanny resemblance to Natasha. He could feel a tingling building in the pit of his stomach, something that he hadn't felt in  _ years _ .

Nerves.

Anticipation.

He smiled ruefully at his own face in the mirror as he felt a stirring in his groin; even his dick thought it was Natasha.

“I thought you had better control over your emotions…” Ash’s soft voice cut through the still air. 

Blanca chuckled. “It's hard to get away from the thoughts about dark-skinned island beauties on a night like this; it’s romantic no?” He gave Ash an easy smile as he wrapped the towel tighter around his waist and willed his cock to go down. “Besides, I’m now  _ retired,  _ as you should be. A man should be able to let his imagination run away with him if he’s retired…” 

Ash’s answering snort only served to remind him just how hollow his statement on retiring really was. There was no escaping, only making sure that people feared you enough to leave you alone. Running a hand through his damp hair, he shook water droplets loose from the dark strands. “Shower is free, I left the bathrobe in there for you.”    
  


The shower had only been running for a few minutes when there was a resounding crash from the bathroom; the sound of glass breaking and the heavy thud of objects hitting the floor. Blanca grabbed one of the pistols he'd hidden in the room and flicked the light switch off, throwing the room into darkness. His large frame quickly covered the distance across the room, the weapon in his hand was already primed before he’d even made it halfway.

“Ash?” he called out, nudging the bathroom door open with his foot, glancing through the sliver of opening. He couldn’t see anything in the mirror’s reflection; it showed most of the room, but not the actual shower recess, but that only meant that there was no one else in the room… his mind was already racing with the potential possibilities. 

The only sound he could hear over the spray of water from the shower was the huffing of rapid shallow breathing.

Blanca took a deep breath as he adjusted his grip on the gun, and carefully reached through the gap in the doorway for the light switch he knew was there and switched it off. Darkness flooded the room and not even the moonlight was enough to break the gloom.

“Ash?” he called out again, buying time for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light. 

There was a whimper from the shadows, small and frightened. 

He’d only heard that sound a handful of times; it meant that Ash hadn’t been hurt, shot by some sniper he’d failed to flush out on the island, but having a panic attack… but triggered by what?

Even though the threat of danger was no longer present, Blanca didn’t bother turning the bathroom light back on. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, and he knew from experience that having the light on wasn’t going to help Ash overcome the monsters that hid in his past.

Making his way over to the bathtub, he could already see what had caused the earlier noise. Ash had knocked over the bottles of shampoo and soap in his panic, their faint scent hanging in the air. Blanca wrinkled his nose at the smell, and a small puzzle piece clicked into place in his mind.

It smelled the same as the soap that the Monsieur kept in his guest rooms. The same rooms that would have been frequented by the men that Ash was “loaned” to. With his defences down over Eiji’s departure, Ash wouldn’t have been prepared for the memories the scent of the soap would have triggered. 

Recollection of a fourteen year old boy, paralysed by fear over the smell of soap, came unbidden in his mind. Back then he hadn’t made the connection with the soap either, not until he’d run out of his own, and used the soap that the Monsieur had available. When he entered Ash’s room to begin one of their lessons, he watched as the look on his face changed to one of pleasant anticipation to one of betrayal. The terrified boy had screamed at him as he cowered in the corner of his bed,  _ “You’re just like them!” _

That same boy, now a little older, and a little larger, was curled up at the end of the bath, as far away as he could get from those bottles. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his breathing was coming in shuddering pants as water from the shower splashed over him.

Blanca scooped the bottles out of the bath, throwing them into the sink and turned the water to the shower off. Ash’s eyes opened at the noise, gazing fearfully in the direction, but unseeing in the darkness. Ash didn’t need to see him to know exactly where he was. 

“Ash, can you hear me?” Blanca’s voice was soft, talking as if he was trying to calm a savage beast. “Remember to breathe Ash. Breathing is important.” 

He slowly climbed into the wet bathtub, thankful in hindsight that he’d made sure that the bath was large enough to fit his frame with room to spare, stretching out until his back was against the edge of the tub, and his feet against the other end on either side of Ash.

Tears sparkled in the barest shimmer of light, and the heavy breathing had slowed enough for whispered unintelligible words to tumble forth.  _ Horrible. Dirty. Murderer.  _  Blanca reached for him, dragging Ash’s unresponsive body into a hug, his chin resting on top of the fluffy blonde hair as he slowly began to rock them back and forth, as much as the confined space in the tub would allow. 

As he murmured soothing words and gentle reminders to breath normally, Blanca wondered once more, how Ash would have turned out if he’d been raised with love instead of the poor caricature of it that the Monsieur claimed to feel for him.

The shallow breathing gradually gave way to hiccuping sobs, as the panic from earlier capitulated into an outpouring of grief, and Blanca did his best to comfort him until his anguish had run its course. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Ash finally lifted his head, his eyes glimmering with moisture. Perhaps it was the darkness, or the vulnerable expression on Ash’s face that tugged at his heart and made him think of Natasha, but something made him move. 

The hand that had been around Ash’s shoulders slowly slid upwards, fingers gently trailing across the smooth column of his neck before coming to rest. Cupping his jaw lightly, his hand large enough, his fingers long enough, to thread through the damp hair at the base of Ash’s skull. Blanca’s fingertips twitched; he imagined he could see, in the darkness, the pulse beating in the hollow of Ash’s throat. Lashes that glittered with minute droplets of water fluttered closed as Ash leaned into his hand. He swallowed. Hard. He was now keenly aware that they were both naked; he’d lost his towel somewhere along the way.

In the stillness of the night, in what had become their own private little world contained within the confines of the enamel tub, Blanca held himself motionless as he watched Ash nuzzle his hand, his movements minute, imperceptible, and probably imagined if it wasn’t for the constantly changing pressure against his palm.

Ash slowly tilted his head, until his lips brushed against the callouses that lined the hitman’s hand and gradually opened his eyes as he placed an opened-mouthed kiss against them, his teeth gently scraping against the hardened skin. The fingers that were still against the back of Ash’s head twitched again. 

There was a pause, like time had ceased for that instant, where the two of them regarded each other through their own unique world view. Neither saying a word or making a sound that would break the fragile shell they’d somehow managed to build around them.

Slowly, tentatively, they moved toward each other. Gently, their lips brushed; a feather-light sensation where they barely touched. One that made his stomach clench, and his previously forgotten erection return with vengeance. He groaned softly, both hands moving to cup Ash’s face and bring him closer.

His usual recalcitrance was gone, replaced by an uncertainty that was almost heartbreaking to see; it was obvious that Ash was treading in unfamiliar territory. Had Ash ever kissed somebody because he wanted to? It made his heart skip a beat to think that he might be the first person…  _ or second _ he thought to himself.

The space between them was warming up with their body heat. Blanca’s hands were already sliding down Ash’s slim shoulders and across his back, as he let the young man have his way, his lips soft and biting as he tentatively explored Blanca’s mouth. 

Blanca’s mouth was hot, the movement of his tongue against his own did  _ things _ to him; made him feel things that he thought were long forgotten, or definitely buried. Ash couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t felt fear, revulsion, or cold calculated rage. His mind wasn’t racing ahead to plan his next move; he was just allowed to  _ be. _

The hitman’s hands were warm as his fingers traced the lines of Ash’s body. They weren’t demanding more than he was willing to give, a gentle coaxing that allowed him to slowly unravel all the tension that was coiled within him. A small ember buried deep within him, one that he was sure had gone out a long time ago, slowly burned to life, threatening to consume him.

Their lips broke contact, Ash dragging air into his lungs, his head falling forward, and resting on Blanca’s shoulder as his chest heaved. Blanca’s fingers stilled as he waited for Ash to recover. He couldn’t help but give a small smile to the darkness, bittersweet and full of his own longing. 

Ash shifted, lifting his head, eyes downcast as he struggled with his inner turmoil, before raising them, the plea in his gaze a palpable thing. Blanca closed his eyes and took a deep breath of his own. If they were going to do this, then the bath was not going to be the place for it. 

He gripped Ash and held him tight, as his large frame surged forward, and somehow, he managed to get his legs underneath him. Standing slowly, and still holding onto Ash, Blanca stepped out of the bath, the young man clinging to him, legs wrapped around his waist.

Blanca carried Ash out of the bathroom. The room was comparatively well lit, the moonlight streaming through the window, the curtains fluttering slightly in the sea breeze that brought with it the smell of salt and moisture. 

A gentle tapping on the roof, and quietly, it began to rain.

Blanca managed to get them onto the queen-sized bed that was his. Lying on his back amongst the pillows with Ash straddling his lap, and not caring that they were both still damp from the shower.

From this position, Ash could do whatever he needed… including climbing off. Under the soft sound of rain, bathed in the ambient glow of moonlight, they stared at each other once more. 

Blanca shifted his hips, raising them slightly, tipping Ash forward so that he had to place his hands on the hitman’s chest to balance himself. Slim fingers slid across the smooth skin of his chest, and this time he couldn’t stop himself from getting hard as Ash’s slim hips moved against him, his length positioning itself between them. He didn’t miss the catch in Ash’s breath, or the way his fingertips twitched, digging into the firm flesh of his chest. 

With Blanca’s strong hands gripping his hips, Ash edged himself forward, feeling Blanca’s length sliding beneath him, the tip already wet as it rubbed against his skin. He could feel the slow burn of desire building in the pit of his stomach, and the ache that came with the need to be filled.

This was different from all those times with Dino, and with the men that he’d sold him to. There was no cajoling or threats, and the lack of expectations made him hesitant; the feeling of being able to do something just for himself made him bite his lip as his body shuddered with repressed feeling. He could just…  _ be. _ He pushed back his hips experimentally and the blunt wet tip of Blanca’s cock rubbed against his sensitive skin, making his breath hitch again. 

It was big… possibly the biggest he’d ever felt. The knowledge sent a delicious thrill through him; what better way to burn out the sins of the past, than through the abuse of the flesh, through the pain that he chose to inflict upon himself. 

“Ash…” Blanca’s husky voice cut through the darkness, his name uttered with concern and understanding; a tone that was laden with unspoken promises. That carefulness brought a lump to his throat, as he whispered into shadows. 

“Please.”

The night would be forever etched into his memory, something to be remembered in the quiet solitude.

Blanca had produced a bottle of lube from god knows where and had begun the slow task of opening him up, long fingers reaching inside him and touching places that he thought were hidden. There was no harsh probing, looking for the spot that would force his release, to hold over him and humiliate him. 

Instead, the gentle pressure as fingers skimmed over it, but not searching for it, made his mouth dry and his head swim as the muscles in his abdomen clenched and his erection grew painfully hard, spilling precome over the taut flesh of Blanca’s stomach. The man wasn’t deliberately  _ teasing _ him, he just didn’t  _ know;  _ his attention was focused on stretching out the ring of muscle. As he widened, the sting gave way to a delicious burn that suffused his limbs and made him ache with the need to be filled. 

It was like that, heavy-lidded, slack-jawed, and head thrown back, that he felt the blunt pressure of Blanca trying to enter him, the thickness stretching him wider than what his fingers had been able to. The slick of lube and the smoothness of the condom helped with the passage, but it still left him gasping for breath, his hands clutching at Blanca's chest as the hitman supported his weight allowing him to become accustomed to the intrusion.

Slowly, gently, Blanca pushed himself in deeper, his eyes never leaving Ash’s face as he watched his expressions, making sure he wasn’t hurting the young man with his size. Only when Blanca felt Ash’s hips rest against his, and the small rocking motions as he settled himself, did he look away, his eyes drinking in the sight of pale skin in the moonlight. His eyes traveled downwards, taking it all in. The flushed cheeks, the hardened nipples, and finally his cock, twitching erratically and dribbling precome. Tentatively he reached for it, his long fingers encircling it, feeling it throb in the palm of his hand. 

Ash let out a low moan, his hips thrusting forward, pushing his cock into Blanca’s hand. He’d never felt so full with just a person before. He could feel Blanca pulsing inside him, each twitch pushing itself against his prostate making his body tremble with barely suppressed desire; all those other times, he’d wanted it to be over, but this time he wanted it to never end. 

He began to rock, the movement small and subtle. The friction of Blanca’s cock against his rim sent a spike of pleasure through him, his own cock twitching within the hitman’s grip as it slid over the rough skin of his calluses, making it sticky and slick as it continued to weep precome. 

His breath was coming in shallow puffs, his eyes becoming unfocused and unseeing as he began to lose himself in the sensations as he began to rock in earnest, chasing the release he never knew he needed. With a shuddering cry, his muscles clenched hard, his cock spasming as he came, threads of white fluid spattering against Blanca’s stomach.     
  


\----

 

Sunrise was always a beautiful thing. Watching the sky gradually lighten, the dark inky blackness giving way to warm hues as the sun peeked over the horizon, the sea breeze filtering through the open window to tug at his hair. He looked down at the young man nestled within his arms, noting that it was the first time he’d seen him sleeping peacefully, and smiled.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> So apparently the general consensus is "Who are you and what have you done with Squeeze?"
> 
> This is possibly the first "nice" thing I've ever written.
> 
> If you enjoyed it, don't forget to kudos and comment, and come scream at me on Twitter. ^.^


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